


Andy Deserves a Break (at Least According to Joe) *REWRITTEN*

by whatacatchphillip



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Cute, Excessive use of italics, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Pre-Hiatus (Fall Out Boy), Sleepy Cuddles, Smoking, Take This To Your Grave (Album), Van Days, sorry - Freeform, tiredness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-08
Updated: 2016-01-08
Packaged: 2018-05-12 12:11:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5665633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatacatchphillip/pseuds/whatacatchphillip
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a week and a half of touring in July, 2003, having played exactly zero shows, the guys are exhausted. Joe doesn't really mind though, as long as he's near Andy, and he doesn't have to move his guitar case.</p><p>*REWRITTEN*</p>
            </blockquote>





	Andy Deserves a Break (at Least According to Joe) *REWRITTEN*

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, my wonderful cupcakes! I hope you all enjoy this little snippet of Pre-Hiatus goodness! Disclaimer: I love Joe, Andy, Pete, and Patrick with all of the passion my tiny heart can muster, but this is purely fiction.

The mangled van smelt like week old laundry, cheap sandwiches from roadside fast food places, and disappointment. Or, at least it did to Joe. He didn't really know how disappointment was supposed to smell, but he figured it smelt a lot like what he was picking up at the moment. Curled up in the corner, his thin legs pressed to his chest, his shitty guitar poking out of the half-fastened case at his feet, Joe sat with his cheek against the window. He knew he should move his guitar over so Pete, who was sitting next to him, could be more comfortable. Right now, Joe was enjoying his guitar quite a bit more than he was enjoying Pete, so he decided against it. Really, he would rather go sit shotgun, next to Andy, but he was to tired to move. All four of the guys were exhausted, even though they hadn't played any shows yet.

The third show of their first tour had been canceled. The band was completely bummed, extremely tired, and had a collective stench that, strangely, resembled rotten eggs. None of the guys felt much like talking. In fact, no one had spoken a word in hours. Joe was glad Andy had half a mind to turn on the radio. It almost distracted him from the so-called smell of disappointment.

 Joe looked over at Pete, only to see that his usual scowl seemed to have, impossibly, gotten deeper. It might have been because they had gotten kicked out of their third venue straight, but, knowing Pete, it was probably solely the fact that he and Patrick had another screaming match a few hours previously. Patrick was buried in blankets in the very back of the bus, taking some time for himself, although Joe was sure Pete would pay him company soon.   
 ~~~   
 Pete and Patrick had numerous fights during the recording process of Take This To Your Grave, and Joe thought touring would be a small break from their usual fighting, but it truly wasn't. The fights were less often, but twice as intense. He was sure that if Patrick had to sing any time soon, if they weren't forcibly removed from their next venue, his voice would be slightly hoarse from all of the yelling. 

Joe wasn't even sure what the fight was about this time. Coming out of the venue was when Patrick and Pete began raising their voices at each other, and Joe knew what was coming. When they got to the van, about half a mile from the venue, they were yelling, visibly pissed. Patrick's face was stark red, and he had a finger pointed at Pete. Joe couldn't hear exactly what he was accusing Pete of, but he figured the bassist was guilty of whatever it was. 

Joe wasn't planning on dealing with another one of their screaming matches, so he gave an exasperated sigh and clambered in to the vehicle, guitar case smacking against the ripped seats. He leaned in to the window when he successfully got in to a comfortable position- or, as comfortable a position one could assume in a decade old van. Andy slipped in a few minutes later, unnoticed by Joe at first. Andy put his hand on Joe's shoulder, who looked over in surprise, to see a glasses-clad face a few inches from his nose. 

 "Only a week longer, than we don't have to be around them 24/7," said Andy, plopping down in the seat next to him. He was a bit sweaty from loading his drums in to the back of the van, but it was exactly like Andy to be able to do it without assistance in little more than a minute. 

 Joe sometimes thought that Andy was a superhero. A magnificent, beautiful, kindhearted superhero who Joe would give anything to be with. Andy didn't need to know that, though. 

 "Thank god. Hopefully we get to play at least once before then," Joe said, lacing his hands above his head and leaning back in to the ripped cloth of the seat.

 "We will, don't worry," replied Andy, smiling sadly at the fro'ed guitarist. He sat back and gave a large yawn before he leaned a bit in to Joe's shoulder. Joe only wrapped his arm around the drummer, bringing him further in to the crook his shoulder. Andy breathed a bit more calmly, drawing his knees up and placing them halfway on Joe's lap. This was something he and Andy did often, though they never really clarified what it was. For some odd reason, when one of the two needed someone for cuddling purposes, they would always come to the other. 

Joe fought to convince himself that these actions were because Andy had a fondness for cuddles, and Joe is his friend, but he couldn't help but hope there was a bit more meaning behind it. 

Joe turned his face in to his friend's hair, who, without a doubt, was the best smelling of the four (Joe chalked it up to a vegan thing), and took a deep breath. They all needed a break from the endless driving and rejection by venues, Andy most of all. He was mature when the other three couldn't help but act like children, and Joe had to give him props for not losing his shit with them. 

What seemed like only a minute later, Joe felt Andy move from Joe's arms and climb over into the front seat of the car. Joe was about to protest before realizing Patrick had entered the van and that he had offered to drive. 

 "No, go chill in the back, dude. You look like you need it," said Andy, in response a teary Patrick. He dug around in his jacket pocket for the keys to the van before flashing his gorgeous grin back at Patrick. The singer smiled back slightly, and wiped his nose with his sleeve. Patrick seemed to calm down after that, and moved in to the back of the bus to dig through their bags for some blankets. In all honesty, Joe thought the only reason Andy wouldn't let the others drive was because he didn't trust them behind the wheel.  With how reckless the rest of them were, Joe couldn't blame him.   
   
 A minute later, Pete, who was scarily unemotional, entered the side door of the van. He didn't look on the verge of tears the way Patrick was, but he was grumbling like he usually did after a fight. He snapped out of it the second he realized Joe was staring, and frowned at him, throwing the water bottle he had in his hand at Joe.

After Joe tossed the battered water bottle in the bassist's general direction, Pete seemed to pause in order to silently contemplate his options; he could either sit in the front with Andy and endure a lecture on why he shouldn't shout at his lead singer, go sit in the back with Patrick, who looked like he was trying to drown himself in blankets, or sit with Joe, who wouldn't reprimand him, but definitely wasn't going to be moving his guitar case any time soon.

Pete gave an exasperated sigh that seemed to radiate from deep within him and plopped down in to the half seat in the middle of the van that wasn't taken up by Joe or his guitar case. 

 "We're gonna stop at a gas station soon, so don't get too comfortable," grumbled Andy, almost as an afterthought to something the rest of the guys couldn't hear. He started up the car a moment later, the engine sputtering in a way he was sure they could all relate to. Joe tried to sink in to the seat and disappear, pretending he couldn't hear Patrick's soft sobs from the back of the van. 

 ~~~ 

Andy was a liar. Or, he could have just been lost. Either way, Joe wasn't happy with him; he had been promised a break in the driving hours ago, and all he'd gotten was some restless sleep from riddled with jolts from unseen potholes and the soft lull of the radio. Joe really wished Andy would put in a Metallica CD or something, as he was truly sick of hearing about the 'top song of the summer' on every single station. After the next pothole, causing Joe's head to smack painfully in to the window, Joe sat up and groaned with as much built up frustration as he could manage.

"Andy... Andy, we've been driving for like seventy-four  hours, can we take a break soon?" asked Joe, miming a praying motion even though he was sure Andy couldn't see it. 

"We're almost at the motel. I don't want to have to sleep in the van again, and this is one we can actually afford. It's super cheap," replied Andy, not bothering to turn away from the road. 

"Thanks for reminding me how broke we are," replied Joe, though the end of his sentence was cut off with a yawn. Andy flipped him off through the slightly cracked mirror on the windshield, but he was giggling slightly as he did so. Joe couldn't help but grin at how absolutely adorable his drummer was. He almost chastised himself; he wasn't supposed to think of one of his bandmates like that. But, what Andy didn't know couldn’t hurt him.

Only minutes later, the van creaked to a stop in what looked like a motel parking lot. It was a pretty run down place, but it was the only thing they could afford at this point. Joe just hoped he didn't pick up herpes from the bed (which two of them would, evidently, be sharing).  The moment they stopped, Andy pushed opened the door to the van, and a gust of cool summer air flooded in to the van. Pete groaned, the first sound he had made in hours, and pulled himself from the seat.

 "Come on, 'Trick," grumbled Pete, kicking the lump of blankets that was sprawled across some equipment. 

 "Fine. Don't kick me, asshole," replied Patrick, prying himself from the many blankets he was entangled in. Patrick scowled at his bassist, but Joe could tell the gesture didn't mean much.

Joe would bet the crumpled up 5 dollar bill in his pocket that the two would be all over each other by tomorrow morning. 

 Joe was exceptionally tired, and was ready to sleep until the world ended. He thought that maybe sleeping for a night would work just as well, if it was in Andy's arms. 

 The four had almost no possessions to bring with them, so they removed their duffel bags from the van before locking it and taking listless steps towards the small building. Joe didn't think he would ever recover from this tour. He hadn't gotten a single night of good sleep in the week and a half they had been traveling the Midwest, and Joe didn't have the patience for another night with any of the guys. Besides Andy, he supposed; he could always deal with Andy. He just hoped Andy would continue to be able to deal with him. 

As they approached the rusty doors of the motel, they began to realize that very few other cars could be seen in the parking lot. Though the lights were on, there was absolutely no one at the counter.   
 Joe heard Pete, who's arm was now supporting a tired Patrick, curse in to the singer's knitted hat.

Joe was wrong; it hadn't taken until the next morning for them to make up. 

 Andy knocked on the table as if it were a door, and looked around a bit. The little building could have been on Mars for how deserted it was. 

 "Patty and I are gonna go chill on the couches over there. If you guys figure anything out, come get us," said Pete, leading a half asleep Patrick to one of the ratty couches.  The two would probably end up falling asleep there. Joe rolled his eyes at them, and turned to face an exhausted looking Andy.

 "I'm going to go have a smoke, dude," said Joe, already prying the his dwindling pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket. 

 "Fine, go ruin your lungs instead of helping me look for another living human in this place," said Andy, running a hand through his unruly hair. Leave it to Andy to stay calm in the craziest of situations. 

 "Good luck with that one," said Joe, patting his friend on the shoulder. He left the building with a smile filling his eyes and a cigarette on his lips. 

 ~~~ 

 A few minutes and a good smoke later, Joe felt someone approach from behind the bench he was sitting at. 

 "Andy?" he asked, twisting his shoulders slightly to look behind him. He was greeted with a weary sight; Andy was bundled in a jacket, despite it being summertime, his glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. Joe really wanted to kiss him. 

 "Yep," said the other man, weariness laced through that word alone.    

 "Come sit for a little bit," said Joe, patting the place on the bench beside him. Andy gratefully took the offer, collapsing on to the metal bench, halfway leaning in to Joe. 

Joe threw his cigarette to the ground and stomped it out, pulling Andy further in to him. The two sat tangled in each other's arms until Andy spoke up.

 "You know, you're going to get gum disease or something," Andy said in to Joe's neck, his warm lips almost pressing against it.

 "Meh," replied Joe, shrugging his shoulders. "Life of a rock star, man." 

 "Fine. Do what you want, crazy," said Andy, chuckling slightly. "Do you ever think we're going to play a show?" 

 "I thought you were the one who knew for sure we were going to," said Joe. He could feel Andy's frown. He cringed at his badly timed joke. "No, no, I think we will. Eventually, at least. You deserve a break, dude. You do everything. You drive most of the time, you check us in to hotels, you get gas. You're the only adult out of the four of us." 

 "Thanks. I wouldn't be here without you all, though," said Andy, and Joe instantly scoffed. In what universe did Andy truly need them? 

 "Seriously, though," said Andy after hearing Joe. "But, there's never a pause in the action when it comes to you all. You said I should have a break, though?" 

"Yeah, you deserve it, man," Joe gave a small chuckle, and turned to look at the road. There was no sign of human life for miles and miles. The four guys from Chicago were all alone, it seemed. Distracted by the twinkling stars and the warm summer breeze, Joe wasn’t snapped out of his trance until Andy reached his chapped hand up to Joe's chin, and turned the guitarist to face him.

Joe had absolutely no idea what was going on, and he was sure the confusion showed on his face. Andy suddenly tugged Joe's face to meet his, and their dry lips crashed together. As cheesy as it sounded, Joe was sure fireworks erupted in his tummy and danced around his body. Andy's lips, despite being chapped, were perfect against his own. It was a sweet, wonderful kiss that ended far too soon. After only a second, the drummer pulled away, and looked towards his laces, as if he had done something wrong. Joe could tell that Andy’s face was flaming, even in the soft light from the broken door-light of the motel.

 "And that was my break," he mumbled, not turning to face Joe, who was frozen in his spot. Andy leapt from the bench quickly, and began walking back towards the motel, his steps much more precise than they were before. Joe scrambled up after him. A kiss from Andy was better than the rush of a cigarette any day. Joe planned on feeling that again, if it was the last thing he did.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading! Feel free to leave comments, I'll respond to pretty much all of them :). I hope to see you soon, and wherever you are, I hope you have a wonderful day!


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